Baseball people forget it’s a game, not just a business

There used to a game called baseball, and it was as much a part of summer as corn on the cob and watermelon. Kids could play it in the streets, and it grew to the point it was known as America’s Pastime.

All you needed was a bat, a ball, and a dream.

It gave us heroes like the Babe and the Iron Horse and Jackie Robinson. It was full of cliches that became part of the language and culture, like “I can’t get to first base with that girl.” The president of the U.S. even showed up to throw out a ball to start the season.

But baseball became extinct, like the Tyrannosaurus rex. The people who played it and the people who controlled it forgot it was a game and not a business. While the fans were interested in things like RBIs and ERA, the team owners — and the players — seemed more concerned with luxury tax and bonus pools.

Labor problems were the death of baseball. Lockouts by the owners, as we are stuck with now, or strikes by the players killed interest in the game. Fans may enjoy arguments on the diamond, but they were weary of debates in executive offices.

It was believed baseball had become so ingrained in the nation that it even could survive the people who run it, that like cockroaches it was impossible to eradicate. But that was before the country changed — and perhaps because the game didn’t.

Some question whether in these manic times the game is too slow for the new generation, and the sport has been inflicted with some ridiculous revisions, like putting a man on second in extra innings — what next, four outs an inning? — but the real trouble is what’s happening now, cancellation of the season’s opening series.

The more baseball fails to deliver every scheduled game of its schedule, the more fans will tend to ignore games when they are played. If they don’t think every pitch, every fly ball is important, then why should they pay attention?

Once the only three sports that mattered in this country were boxing, horse racing and baseball. Nobody cares about the first two — yes, the Kentucky Derby is important, but more as historical tradition than a competition — and baseball is slipping.

Tim Kurkjian, who was a writer before joining ESPN, loves the sport and recently was inducted into the Hall of Fame. “The game is in trouble,” he said the other day, and that was when we still had hope the 2022 season would begin on time.

The person who would have been at the ballpark or in front of the TV screen is losing patience, which means baseball is destined to lose even more fans. The NFL never ends, or so it seems. The NBA is everywhere, and March Madness is about to march into our lives.

Meanwhile, baseball is sinking out of view and into oblivion.

This doesn’t consider the ancillary folk whose livelihoods, as concession workers and other jobs, depend on games being held. Already the exhibition season is gone, a financial blow to Arizona and Florida.

A few days ago, somebody suggested that representatives from the owners and the players be locked in a room and kept there until reaching an agreement. That virtually happened, at least the part of being locked in a room, talks on Monday lasting until the wee small hours of Tuesday morning. But there was no agreement.

All we had was commissioner Rob Manfred trying to explain why the two sides remain apart. And alas, the sport he oversees is not going to be seen on the diamonds.